


The Five Times Loghain held Anora

by MissAmiraDancer



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Feels, Other, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAmiraDancer/pseuds/MissAmiraDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Loghain held Anora. Written for Loghain Positivity Week on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gwaren Manor was in a flurry that crisp autumn morning. Celia’s cry had woken him earlier than usual, as soon as he turned to turned to ask her what was wrong, his knee felt the huge wet spot in the sheets. His wife was in tears, holding her huge stomach. Loghain was up, out of bed and running to fetch the town’s midwife and her closest handmaiden before she could even get a word out. He had returned, panting and shrugging off his servants who begged him to put on something more substantial than night clothes.

‘ _Maker, her screams will wake up the whole village!’_ But he ran right up the stairs to her room, his stomach and heart aching with each cry his wife gave. He was stopped at the door by their youngest serving girl.

“Let me in.” He panted, trying to regain his breath and composure.

“The lady midwife said not to let anyone…” Another scream, the loudest of them yet, came from behind the door. He didn’t care if it was improper or not, he was going to help his wife in any way he could. As he pushed past the small girl, he heard her protests, “My Lordship please don’t!” It didn’t matter to him. Upon opening the door, the smell of blood was distinct and it hit him right away. Other bodily fluids added onto the smell turning the scent of the room into something that he could not describe. His voice stuck in his throat at the sight of his wife, red faced, bloodshot eyes, sweat beading at her forehead. He moved with a swiftness to her side, holding her free hand.

“I’m here, Celia.” He tried to make his voice as soothing and steady as he knew how, and it evidently worked, for Celia managed a smile at him before another harsh contraction hit her, sending her bolting upright with another yell of pain.

“You’re almost there your Ladyship, just one more!” The midwife called out over the chaos. Loghain was a mix of emotions, he was more scared now than he could ever remember being in his life, but excited and nervous all at once. Celia’s hand clamped down on his with a strength he did not know she possessed. Her final cry was deafening in his ear. Then all was silent for what seemed like an age before a softer, shriller, sound broke the silence. Celia’s head rested on his shoulder, tears dampening his sweat stained shirt further. The midwife’s voice had calmed down.

“It’s a very healthy girl, ser.” He felt Celia turn to look up at him, her eyes watery but questioning. Loghain cleared his throat,

“Anora.” The servants and midwife looked perplexed.

“My Lorship?” a younger servant spoke.

“That is to be her name. It is Alamarri.” Celia smiled, knowing a small bit of the old language as well,

“Light.” She whispered, her vocal chords still tired from screaming.

“Yes.” He said, as he was handed his newborn girl, holding her and swearing to never let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during The Calling, so 9:10, Dragon. Loghain thinks he's lost Maric for good.

                Loghain was an equal parts of furious and anxious.

                ‘ _You fool! You knew that Maric would pull something like this, after that show in the throne room yesterday with those Wardens! You just knew that he would leave, yet you didn’t even bother waking up early enough to stop him!’_

                He spent the better part of the day locked in his room at the palace, pouring over maps and remembering their time spent in the Deep Roads, and Ortan Thaig. If it would help get Maric back to where he needed to be, fine, but reliving those memories sent shivers through him.

                _‘I sware if I lose you, if Cailan loses you, if this country loses you because your own blind grief led you back down to the most forsaken places in all Thedas, I will…’_

“Father?” Came the soft, yet curious voice from the door. He turned to see just his young daughters face, peeking around the frame.

                “Yes Anora?” He turned away from the window and the desk, getting one knee so she knew it would be safe to come to him. Anora went to his arms, giggling the slightest bit whenever she was picked up,

                “It’s dinner time, and I haven’t seen you all day, you at least come and braid my hair in the morning.” Her blue, but not icy, eyes were full of questions. He sighed, trying to figure out how to tell his daughter why their King had left without a word, not even a note.

                “I’m sorry my dear. I’ve just had many duties to attend to today. I promise to braid your hair before bed.” That seemed to perk her up, but that questioning look in her eyes never quite left.

                “Cailan is starting to wonder where his father went, he wanted to ask you but didn’t want to be a bother.”

                ‘ _Of course he’s still a little nervous when I get in moods like this.’_ Loghain sighed,

                “I’ll explain at dinner alright?” That was enough to make Anora content, and Loghain carried her all the way down to the dining hall, holding the one thing that he hasn’t lost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anora's wedding to Cailan. Pre-wedding jitters get to even the fiercest Queens-to-be!

                To say that the past few months had been chaotic would be the biggest understatement of Loghain’s life as of yet. Maric’s presumed death at sea had brought many emotions to himself and the country as a whole. Grief, depression, worry, anxiety for the future. Loghain walked out onto the balcony of his room and stared off into the gardens. It was the most pleasant of days weather wise, with a gentle breeze, a bright, deep aqua skies.

                ‘ _At least there is that.’_ And with a snort a second though appeared, _’At least this was planned.’_

                He tried to think past his grief for a moment to recall one of the few times he ever saw his daughter cry. The smile on her face so big when Cailan finally proposed to her, even though everyone in the Kingdom knew it was coming. That put a small smile on his face.

                ‘ _And now I get to walk her down the aisle. My daughter, a Queen.’_ That made him proud and his heart flutter the smallest bit. Celia would no doubt be helping their daughter get dressed, as he had already braided her hair the night before after dinner, so he was left alone until a servant came to get him for the ceremony. Anora had personally requested he wear his old dark leather armor, the one that was given to him by his father all those years ago, and he changed into it while she was getting ready.

                _‘Wonder that the leather is still in good shape.’_ That armor had taken him through much strife, and he had stored it away after the battle of River Dane, where he earned two titles in one day. The wind at his face brought back memories of that cold morning, but he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his door opening and shutting. He started to speak before turning around,

                “Ah, so is it time alread-” His breath left him as he saw his daughter, dressed in a simple, but elegant pale colored garment, wearing the same jewelry he had given Celia for their wedding day, flowers adorning the braids he had put in. Anora smiled, partly out of pride that she had made her father speechless, but Loghain could very well read the nervousness in her posture and eyes.

                “Yes Father, it is.” Her voice remained steady and confident, good. He walked over to her without realizing it, putting a hand on her shoulder.

                “Maker’s own breath, Anora, but you do look lovely.” Anora had to avert her eyes, a profound blush staining her cheeks.

                “Father,” She began, “I’m so nervous, I can barely stand.” He watched her fidget from one foot to the other,

                “What for? You’ve anticipated this wedding for months now.” He cupped her chin with a light hand, turning it to him, and locking her gaze.

                “No, Father, it’s not that,” she said, her voice trailing off in a soft tone. “King Maric’s death, ruling a country…Father I know Cailan is not ready, and I…I don’t think I am either.” Her voice wavered at the end, and her eyes became glassy with tears trying to be held back. Loghain embraced her.

                “Oh Anora, you’ll be fine. You and Cailan and I have been more or less running this country since he proposed to you. You have a whole court of advisors to help you, and what’s more, is that the whole Kingdom is happy to support you. You can do this.” He held her for a moment, his smile sweet and genuine, a rare sight even for Anora. He kissed her forehead lightly before pulling away, still holding onto one hand and taking a deep bow, “Shall I escort her new Majesty downstairs?” That made Anora give a lighthearted laugh, taking away some of the stress and nervous from her features.

                “Only if the great Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir wishes.” She joked back, and they had to rush downstairs, as the bells were already ringing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right before his Joining, just after the Landsmeet.

                He had always swore to never bend his knee to anyone but Maric, this, however, proved to be a special case. The Landsmeet was over, and here was, kneeling to an elven mage of all people, who oddly offered him a hand up. That was when the Orlesian warden came through the doors. He offered another way, offering conscription instead of the very likely death placed in front of him. He heard Anora’s voice practically beg the Warden to take that option, her tone rushed and pleading. Maric’s bastard practically fumed with anger, shouting about how he threatened to leave if she dare do that. He would formally denounce the Order and quit as a Warden all together. The mage answered back in curt tone that brooked no argument,

                “You agreed to marry Anora before all this. I expect you to keep your end of the bargain, _Ser Warden Alistair Theirin_.” Some of the nobles gasped at her use of his full name and title, and the fact of what she just said. He looked to Anora and she nodded, a knowing look in her eye that this had indeed been pre-arranged and planned, to an extent.

                “I agreed to marry Anora _if it came down to it_.” Alistair hissed, but soon resigned himself under the Warden’s icy glare. “But I see I have no choice. Fine. From this moment forth, I hereby leave the order. You’re on your own.” Loghain could tell that it hurt her to watch him go, but the pain left her face when she turned to help meet him up off the hall floor.

                “Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, I conscript you. Your Joining will be as soon as possible.”

 

\---

 

                Anora had managed to slip away from the chaos, and into Eamon’s estate, without notice, partly due to her putting her hair in a low bun and changing into servant’s clothes. It was right before he took his Joining, so he assumed the knock on the door had been Riordan or Surana to come get him.

                “Enter.” Came his gruff response. Anora came in, and shut the door behind her with a quick yet soft click. She ran to him and clung tightly to him, a display so out of place for her.

                “Oh Father!” Her voice was soft but close to tears. “I don’t want to lose you, not now.” Loghain hugged her back as much as he could in his armor, and stood back for a moment to take off his gloves and gauntlets so he could hold her a little tighter.

                “Shh, Anora. I’m here now.” It’s all he could say. He couldn’t tell if everything would turn out alright, nor if he would live through this ordeal. Small sobs wracked Anora’s body, and he petted her hair with one hand, wiping her tears away with the other. They stood like that for sometime, until Anora went quiet. He held her until Riordan came knocking on his door. The senior Warden at least had the decency to not say a word nor raise a brow when Anora exited the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he comes to visit Anora one last time before his Calling. And it's not mentioned in the work, but in my headcannon, Loghain does not go to to Orrzamarr, he goes instead to Ostagar.

                He always counted it a small miracle that his hair never truly went gray. Neither did it ever turn silver or white; certainly, there were some stray threads to be found but his tresses always remained the darkest shade of black, even as he aged. The thought faded from his mind as the guards opened up the doors to the palace itself. He had sent a short missive ahead, saying when his approximate arrival would be, nothing more. A sad smile crossed his face for a moment before the music in his head came back to the forefront. Sighing, he made his way up the steps, when he was tackled by his granddaughter.

                “Grandpa!” She cried running and hugging his leg, nuzzling the non-armored part of his knee. They had named her Maeve, Celia’s maiden name, however the young girl often went around taking to her nickname.

                “Why hello little River.” He smiled and picked her up. She was almost an exact copy of him, save for eyes, which were a softer shade of blue like Anora’s. The young girl giggled but turned her head at the sound of Anora’s footsteps.

                “Father.” She smiled wide at him. Loghain set Maeve down, and hugged his daughter properly. “I received your note; it was short, even for you. Is there some Warden business going on?”

                _‘My lovely girl, you don’t know the half of it.’_

                Loghain sighed, tone dropping, a smile vanishing from his face. “Yes Anora, indeed there is.” He saw her eyes widen ever so slightly. “Come, let us talk in private.”           

                “Can I come?” Maeve was well behaved, but curious. Alistair had instilled in her a love for the Grey Wardens from an early age. Loghain knelt down, both knees cracking in protest,

                “Not this time.”

                “Why don’t you go find your little brother and Father? Tell them Grandpa is here.” Anora said. “Tell them he is staying for dinner.” A sideways glance told him that there was no way he could back out of this. He laughed in his mind, Anora had hardly changed. Maeve nodded, and ran off. Loghain took his daughter’s arm and walked her into the castle library, shutting and locking the door behind them.

                “Father?” Anora had lowered her guard, concern showing in her aging face. Loghain now let out a heavy sigh, seating himself into a chair close to the fireplace,

                “Anora, I cannot keep secrets from you.” He began, watching as she took a seat across from him, “I did not come here to visit. I came to say goodbye.” Her eyes widened more,

                “Father no. It’s that Calling isn’t it? Alistair told me about it.” Loghain nodded.

                “Indeed Anora, it is.” Her voice became desperate, rushed,

                “But Father!” She protested, her hand grabbing his closest one. “Alistair has had his Calling stopped! The Hero managed to stop it!” She was pleading with him now. He had hoped it would not have come to this.

                “And I have turned down her offer.” He swore he heard Anora’s mouth click shut. “Anora I am an old man. Many are those who live to be my age, and a far fewer number of those are Wardens. Both you and I knew this would happen once I survived the Joining, we did not know when.” Anora got up and hugged him now, crying into his shoulder softly. “My dearest daughter, it has been twenty years since I took my oaths. We were lucky to have made it this long.” She whimpered as he held her,

                “I know Father, but it still feels too soon.” She wrapped her arms around him and leaned on his shoulder.

                “My dear, death always comes too soon.” He stood like that for a long while trying to remember the promise he made to her when she was first born.

                _‘I am sorry to have to let you go, Anora.’_


End file.
